


Set the Timer

by apostapal



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Chefs, Cooking, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28224024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apostapal/pseuds/apostapal
Summary: Gabriel's never liked sharing his space; especially not in the kitchen. But there's something about Jack that slowly manages to change that... it just takes them a little time.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38
Collections: Reaper76 Free For All Secret Santa 2020





	Set the Timer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Honeybucket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honeybucket/gifts).



> My SS piece, which I'm thrilled to have gotten done in a relatively timely manner all things considered. I hope my giftee, and anyone else reading, enjoys it!! The request involved 'cooking together' and I hope a fun AU about them cooking is good for that desire! ;w;

Gabriel nearly bangs his head on a hanging pot when he turns. Ducking under the open cabinet door, he shoots the cause of it a glare.

“Hey.”

Jack’s halfway stuffed into the cabinet, digging for something. He doesn’t even seem to have heard Gabriel so the sous chef huffs loudly before repeating himself.

“Hey!”

Jack jumps and there’s a thump, his head knocking into the shelving in the spice cabinet. Hissing in pain he slides out of his wedged position to shoot Gabriel an annoyed look.

“What?”

The mere offense in his tone riles Gabriel. The fact his own space has been encroached on while Jack’s still got it in him to get annoyed!

“What are you doing in there?” Gabriel grumbles, folding his arms over his chest.

Jack gestures vaguely. “Looking for cayenne.”

“What for?”

“Brownies, I—“ Jack’s even more flustered now, annoyed. He crosses his arms too. Puffs his chest out a little. “What does it matter? I just needed something.”

Gabriel gestures across the kitchen. “You’ve got a whole pantry over there.”

Jack seems to somehow relax a little at that. “Yeah but,” he offers, “you’ve got the good one over here and last time I tried to order more spices, the boss told me to just grab em here.”

Gabriel’s expression sours. He wrinkles his nose at Jack. The pastry chef looks back at him, brow raised.

“Yeah but…”

Jack lets out a laugh. He smacks Gabriel’s arm playfully and goes back to digging. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring it back.”

And for a while, Gabriel forgets about it. Jack finds the container and returns to his station and Gabriel goes back to cooking. But not even 5 minutes later Jack is back in his damn spice cabinet. Annoyed, he pushes the door into the other man and Jack bangs his head on the shelf in surprise again.

“Ah—what?!” Jack snaps, yanking himself out of the cabinet to glare at Gabriel around the door. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Gabriel feels himself getting more annoyed. Puffing up like he’s a damn peacock trying to posture, he pushes the cabinet door closed and squares up at Jack.

“What do you need now?!”

“Mace,” Jack replies, apprehensive. Just briefly he seems too thrown off to square back up at him.

“Don’t you have that?”

This seems to get a rise out of Jack. He raises up, manages to make use of the few inches he has over Gabriel in their work shoes, and narrows his eyes at him. The two men stare at each other for a long, baited moment before Gabriel reaches over and snatches the bottle out of the cabinet. He shoves it at Jack’s chest and Jack takes it without breaking eye contact.

“Was that so hard?” Jack prompts.

Gabriel clenches his jaw and tries to push Jack away with the hand close to his chest still. He doesn’t budge. Somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind feels… something about that. But the much more current part of his brain just gets frustrated.

“Go back to your station, Morrison.”

Jack eyes him for a moment, posture tight, before finally moving away. He doesn’t return that day, at least, but the next morning before he comes in Gabriel takes it upon himself to go get his spices back. Because, unlike Jack had said, he hadn’t returned them and Gabriel wasn’t about to leave them sitting on the man’s station until he needed them.

When he does, he spots something interesting in the utensil container. There’s a rather nice whisk; good weighted handle, proper grips, perfect tines. He doesn’t hesitate to grab it before returning to his station. He expects Jack to notice.

A part of him is thrilled when, later that day, Jack does and promptly b-lines for his station. But this quickly turns to a mix of agitation and confusion when he turns and Jack immediately pushes him into the edge of the counter.

“Where is it?” Jack asks, tone even but jaw tense.

Gabriel tries to play coy. “Where’s what?”

“My damn whisk,” Jack huffs, “I need that.”

Maintaining eye contact, Gabriel reaches over and plucks it out of his own utensils. Twirling it lazily, he presents it to Jack. “This?”

Jack snatches it out of his grasp. He stays pinning Gabriel to the counter for a moment, glare hard, then sighs. Almost like he’s annoyed with himself.

“I get it,” he grumbles. “Sorry about the spices. I’ll return them next time.”

Gabriel blinks at him. Jack even offers him a brief smile before stepping away. Just leaves him there—back pressed to the counter while he watches Jack return to his station.

He doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until his lungs force him to take a deep inhale. Shaken to his senses, he sighs and rubs at his temples before going back to what he’d been working on.

No time to unpack that right now.

-

“Here, right behind you.”

Jack’s voice is right next to his ear, chest bumping into his back when Gabriel shifts on his feet. He glances over his shoulder and Jack slides a spice container into his hand.

“Smells like it needs some paprika.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes but there’s a good natured grin on his face. He moves to season the pot he’s stirring in, clicking his tongue while Jack slides out from behind them in their tiny kitchen to ready the rolls he was making for the oven. The whole place feels so warm and cozy, but somehow more fluid and open than anywhere else they’ve ever worked.

Jack goes to put the tray of rolls in and Gabriel tugs the oven open, side stepping while Jack slides the rolls in and shuts the door. When he’s done, Gabriel’s back to leaning against the oven door handle while he works.

“Taste,” Gabriel prompts him, holding up the spoon he’s been stirring with. “Mr. Needs Paprika.”

Chuckling, Jack rolls his eyes and tastes the soup. Smacking his lips, he looks to the side thoughtfully before shrugging and pressing a kiss to Gabriel’s cheek. “It’s perfect now.”

Gabriel clicks his tongue. “Nice save,” he chuckles, patting Jack’s cheek before going to click the burner over to simmer while they wait on the rolls.

Beaming, Jack just goes to grab dishes out of the cabinet. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

In the kitchen, at least at work, they still have their own spaces. They still maintain a clear line between what’s to be done at work and what at home. But being at home gives Gabriel a certain calm with Jack in the kitchen he’s never had with anyone else before. He finds his creative streak thrives in their tiny shared apartment kitchen, that with Jack being his only audience (and biggest fan) he feels safe to make things he’d never suggest making in the restaurant.

After dinner, Jack leans back in his chair with a content sigh and pats his stomach. He looks at Gabriel for a long, quiet moment then says, out of the blue, “You should have that on the menu in our restaurant.”

‘Our Restaurant' summons the same response out of Gabriel that ‘let’s get married’ would. He sits up straighter in his seat, looking at Jack with wide eyes.

“What?”

“We are going to open our own place,” Jack ventures, “right?”

“I… I mean…” Gabriel sputters for a moment, unsure what to do. Jack looks slightly concerned and he holds his hands up, placating. “Yes, yes of course! But I just… I didn’t know that’s what you wanted.”

Jack laughs. “Of course it is. You’re so fucking talented, Gabe. Your skill is wasted on the menu we have. You deserve to have control of your own.”

Gabriel’s brain shorts out a little. The idea of being ‘head chef’ feels unbelievable. The mere concept of being the one to call the shots feels just slightly unrealistic.

But Jack… Jack believes in him. Jack wants to see him succeed, see him strike out on his own. The mere thought of it all feels more attainable with Jack’s support.

Gabriel balls his napkin up in his hands, fidgeting. But there’s a grin plastered across his face when he looks up at Jack.

“Yeah,” he says, “yeah, let’s… let’s do it.”

Jack’s smile grows wider. He reaches across the table and holds his hand out, squeezing Gabriel’s hand when he takes it. “It’s going to be amazing,” he says. Gabriel nods, finding Jack’s smile infectious despite his nerves. “Now, you want dessert?”

“Yes,” Gabriel blurts, tugging fondly at Jack’s arm. “Please, it smells so good.”

-

Opening night and Gabriel feels like his nerves are going to make him burst. Tapping his fingers on the counter he goes over the menu for what feels like the hundredth time. He feels Jack slide up next to him, their new kitchen just big enough to make it clear Jack’s in his bubble on purpose.

“You wrote it,” Jack teases, “can’t tell me you already forgot what it is.”

Gabriel chuckles weakly at him but his eyes stay on the menu. At least until Jack reaches over and stops his tapping fingers. When he does, Gabriel finally glances up at him.

“You think it’s good enough?” he asks.

Jack snorts. “I think it’s amazing. Everything you cook is goddamn delicious.”

Gabriel smiles at the compliment but then shrugs. “Yeah, but is it… y'know… restaurant worthy?”

“It’s our restaurant,” Jack tells him firmly, slotting his fingers between Gabriel’s on the hand he’s captured. “And I think the menu is perfect.”

Gabriel’s face finally cracks into a smile. “I guess if you’re helping me,” he says, “opening night should be pretty good.”


End file.
